


The Remix of You + Me

by aurawinterrain



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji is Bad at Feelings, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou are Bros, Broken windows, Dancer Kuroo, Fluff, HQ Rarepair Bang 2020, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Mess, Light Angst, Living Together, M/M, Opposites Attract, Producer Akaashi, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, broken ankles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:06:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23575873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurawinterrain/pseuds/aurawinterrain
Summary: Akaashi and Kuroo are neighbours, both of them rented a studio apartment and they live next to each other. Kuroo is a dancer, and he loves the outdoors, engaging in other sports to keep himself fit besides dancing. Akaashi is a producer, and often locks himself in his apartment for days on end, preferring the solitude of his own home, especially when he is working on a project. One day, Kuroo accidentally throws the basketball a little too high so it soars above the hoop and crashes into Akaashi’s window, which was - as usual - closed and locked for privacy. He made it up in record time, only to find Akaashi leaning against his doorframe waiting for him. Kuroo doesn’t earn much from his part-time job as a barista, and he hasn’t gone far in his career as a dancer yet, so he panicked and proposed a plan - for Akaashi to stay at his apartment for a few weeks until he earns enough money to replace the window. Reluctant, but not willing to stay in a place with a broken window, the producer had no choice but to agree - and thus their life together begins, how would things go from here?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44
Collections: HQ Rarepair Bang 2020





	The Remix of You + Me

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time writing for this paring and honestly, I'm not sure I did their characters justice. I hope it's still enjoyable to read through, and of course, no matter how fluffy I wished this fic was, I had to add a dash of angst because that's how I roll :p   
> Also, thank you to the lovely artist who worked on this cute artwork for the fic! I love it so much ~ show them your support [Here](https://twitter.com/Tendododo1) !

It was a great day, Akaashi Keiji decided, as he sat down at his desk and pulled up his programming app, tugging his headphones over his ears. It was a great day because his manager was not ringing him up every 15 seconds to yell at him, and his neighbour was finally being quiet for once. Just when he was about to press the start button, a loud crash jolted him out of his creative mode and he swore he had a mini heart attack. 

Heart still racing, Akaashi gingerly pulled off his headphones and slowly made his way to his bedroom - where he heard the crash, and swore at the sight that greeted him. A basketball was lying in a pile of glass. Gritting his teeth, he carefully made his way to his window to glare down at the culprit, only to catch sight of an ugly bed head racing towards their building. 

A vague idea of what happened was already forming in his head, and Akaashi really wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of this bullshit so early in the morning, so he stood there for a good 30 seconds to compose himself, before heading towards his door to wait for Kuroo - aka, pain in the ass neighbour - to arrive. “I’m so sorry!” Akaashi could hear his wail all the way from his apartment as Kuroo zoomed down the hallway from the elevator. Rolling his eyes, he leaned against the doorframe and stared at his neighbour, clearly not amused. 

“Akaashi, was it? I think my basketball hit your window - I’m really sorry!” 

“You don’t have to keep apologising, when can you replace it? That’s all I care about.” At this, Kuroo pulled a face and dread was beginning to pool in Akaashi’s stomach. 

“Here’s the thing, I’m kinda broke right now-” 

“That’s not my problem. Look, I can just go and tell the landlord about it…”

“No! Please, don’t, I really don’t want to get into any trouble with the landlord. If you’re not okay with living with a broken window until I earn enough to replace it, then come live with me. I’ll let you stay at my apartment. It’s big enough to place all your producing stuff in my room. I’ll stay in the living room, I’ll let you use my studio. Just please, don’t tell the landlord about it.” He pleaded, nearly going down on his knees to show his desperation. 

The producer closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. 

“Fine.” He eventually agreed. “But we would not interfere with each other’s life, work, or anything. That’s my only rule.” He said, then slammed the door in Kuroo’s face, missing the way his face brightened up like an excited puppy. 

So, that was how the introverted music producer Akaashi Keiji started his life with the extroverted dancer, Kuroo Tetsurou. 

The first few days there went by pretty smoothly, Kuroo had assigned a room to Akaashii. “It’s my dance studio, but you can move all your producing stuff here.” He said, having moved all his own equipment to one side to make way for Keiji’s. “Uhm... Kuroo-san? Where would I sleep?” Over a few conversations from moving Akaashi’s equipment and belongings, he got to know that Kuroo was older, hence the formal address. Though Kuroo told him to ‘drop all formalities and call him Tetsurou, they were living together now after all’, Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to call a stranger he barely knew by his first name. 

“You can take my bed! It’s a queen-sized bed so it should be more than enough for you. I’ll take the couch until I can pay you back, it’s no big deal.” At first, Akaashi thought nothing of the arrangement. He was just glad to be able to get around doing his usual thing - getting up at 8 am, then locking himself into his studio - or rather, Kuroo’s studio - and working on his mixtape until it was time for lunch. 

It wasn’t until he noticed the amount of pain relief patches Kuroo was plastering all over his neck and back did he realise how small Kuroo’s couch was. Kuroo wasn’t kidding when he said that he was running low on cash - his apartment was pretty spacious since he didn’t have any interior decor. All he had was a small couch that could probably squeeze three people if he tried and a small television. His fridge was stocked with reduced vegetables and ingredients, as he tended to avoid eating out. 

So when someone as tall and as buff as Kuroo was suddenly forced to sleep in such a cramped space, he must have found it hard to adjust. Akaashi started noticing small things about the dancer as well - like how he had converted the free space in the living room into a makeshift dance studio. When he saw how Kuroo was trying his best to record his own choreography, with the limited space and pain relief patches scattered all over his body, his heart almost melted, until he remembered his broken window. 

Akaashi wasn’t exactly wealthy, though he was more financially stable than Kuroo. That doesn’t mean he had enough money to replace his own window without tearing a big hole in his wallet, though. He was barely surviving with the amount of money he made from his mixtapes, he couldn’t afford to fix a broken window. So, he chose the next best possible option - reviewing his rule and sharing his space with Kuroo. 

They were having dinner - courtesy of Kuroo, Akaashi could barely cook anything without setting it on fire - when the producer decided to bring his suggestion up. “The couch seems like it’s a little too tiny for a huge person like you.” He commented, glancing at Kuroo across the table. The dancer froze, eyes widening slightly. “Well, it’s not  _ that  _ tiny, I’ll survive.” he chuckled, shoving a mouthful of rice into his mouth. 

“You mean you’ll survive if you raid the entire store of its pain relief patches?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow, eyeing one peeking out from under Kuroo’s sleeve. “Well…” Kuroo trailed off, a sheepish smile on his face. “I was the one who broke your window, anyways. I kind of deserve it.” He shrugged, though the wince at appeared on his face immediately after didn’t do much to support his claim. Akaashi huffed, putting down his chopsticks to face Kuroo directly. “What I’m trying to say is - your bed is big enough for two. I don’t want you dying on me before I get my window fixed, now  _ that  _ would be a real headache.” 

There was silence for a good few seconds before whatever Akaashi’s head seemed to finally settle in Kuroo’s brain. “Really? That… sounds great, actually. I always thought my bed was too big for one but I bought it anyway because Bokuto said it was way too big and I wanted to prove my point that it wasn’t.” Akaashi rolled his eyes, of course he bought an enormous bed despite the fact that he was on a tight budget just to  _ prove his point.  _ “But thanks, ‘kaashi! My body will appreciate the bed after sleeping on that tight couch.” He flashed a bright smile in Akaashi’s direction, before continuing to shove rice into his mouth. Akaashi froze, trying to convince himself that his heart did  **not** just skip a beat when Kuroo smiled. 

“Why aren’t you eating?” Kuroo asked, lowering his bowl slightly, though with the amount of food in his mouth it sounded more like ‘ayy ren’t chu heting?’ Akaashi flushed slightly, lowering his head as he picked his chopsticks back up.  _ Nope, it’s just that he has two perfect rows of pearly white teeth, and when he smiles like that it’s like he lit up the entire room, so that’s a perfectly normal reaction, right.  _

Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself. 

Sleeping together, it turns out, was harder than Akaashi ever imagined. After the whole dinner incident thing, he was trying his best to keep his distance from the dancer. It was for the best, he told himself. It was easy to forget the whole reason why he was at Kuroo’s apartment in the first place, but he shouldn’t let himself get too carried away with it. After all, when Kuroo finally gets his pay, they would have to go back to being neighbours, and he can carry on with his life as per usual. 

So, maintaining some distance was for the best.  _ And for the sake of my own sanity as well. _ He added silently, closing his eyes and praying for sleep to come and take him out of his misery. “... You can’t sleep, Akaashi?” Kuroo whispered, moving closer to Keiji. “Y-yeah.” He admitted, rolling over to find himself almost face to face with Kuroo. A surprised squeak escaped the otherwise stoic producer, face flushing red. 

“I can’t sleep either, maybe it’s because it’s the first time I’m actually sharing a bed with someone.” Kuroo grinned, but reached over and pulled Akaashi closer. “If I stroke your back like this, you think you will be able to fall asleep?” Akaashi was speechless - he hadn’t expected  _ this  _ when he offered to share the bed. But it  _ was  _ warm and comforting being so close to someone else, and Kuroo’s ministrations on his back  _ were  _ very soothing. So, despite every single cell in his brain telling him to turn around and just try and fall asleep, he didn’t resist and closed his eyes instead. 

-

Afterwards, they kind of fell into some sort of rhythm, getting more and more accustomed to living together and sharing the amenities in the apartment. Akaashi continued to enjoy the peace that Kuroo’s studio offered, while the dancer was busy flitting in between his part time job that he had picked up recently and dancing. One thing that Akaashi wasn’t used to - and will probably never get used to - is the decent meals that he was having. Kuroo would call him out for meals at regular times, which wasn’t something that he was accustomed to. Locking yourself up in a room trying to produce a track can range from hours to even days, and there were times where Keiji didn’t even bother getting up for food, too focused on the track at hand. 

Even if Kuroo wasn’t going to be at home, he often left a portion of food for Akaashi in the fridge, which the producer was grateful for. He was well-fed, he still had his personal studio, heck, he could even sleep properly at night now, this was more than what he asked for when Kuroo suggested living together. But before either of them could get comfortable living together, tragedy struck. 

Kuroo broke his ankle. 

Akaashi was in his studio when it happened, so all he heard was a panicked yelp, then a loud crash. Pulling his headphones down, he stumbled out of the room in a frenzy, heart thumping. “What happened-” He cut himself off when he saw Kuroo sprawled out on the floor, clutching his ankle. The latter’s face was twisted into a grimace, and he was trying to take long, slow breaths to get himself to calm down. 

“Fck, it hurts.” Kuroo hissed, raising his head enough just to meet Keiji’s eyes. “I’m sorry, but could you get me a pack of ice from the freezer? I think I sprained my ankle.” Nodding, he got the makeshift ice pack done as quickly as he possibly could, handing it over to Kuroo. “Are you sure it’s a sprain? Where does it hurt?” Kuroo had set his ankle down on a bean bag, so it was elevated and easier to examine. Akaashi seated himself near Kuroo’s foot, wishing he could ease Kuroo’s pain, somehow.

“I don’t know, but it should be a sprain… ” 

“What should I do now? I can call an ambulance? Or-”

“If it’s a sprain I will live, I can’t afford to spend any more money, or I’ll  _ never  _ be able to pay you back-” 

“Stop thinking about the broken window for once and put yourself first! Don’t be an idiot! Don’t you dance for a living? Isn’t an injury like this serious?” Akaashi interrupted Kuroo, standing up and pulling his phone out. “Do you know anyone who has a car? We need to get you to the hospital for a check-up.” 

“But-”

“No buts, or I will carry you there myself.” There was silence, then Kuroo chuckled slightly. 

“I will literally flatten you if you try to lift me up.” 

“ _ I will carry you there myself.”  _

There was a tone of finality in Akaashi’s voice, and Kuroo stopped protesting. “Call Bokuto, he has a car. He’s a little loud and in your face though, so I hope you don’t mind,” Akaashi ignored Kuroo’s last comment, instead calling Kuroo’s partner in crime. 

In the short while that Akaashi had stayed over, he got to know Kuroo’s close friends - or, more accurately, friend. Kuroo and Bokuto had discovered their love for dancing way back in high school, and made a pact to open their own dance studio one day. Even though they were both in their mid twenties now, they didn’t seem like they were giving up on that dream, both taking steps towards their dreams slowly. 

He had successfully managed to avoid all interaction with said best friend, always choosing to lock the door of the studio when Bokuto was over. But since the walls weren’t exactly soundproof, he could always hear Bokuto’s boisterous laughter and ridiculous comments from his seat - so he knew what to expect when Bokuto burst into Kuroo’s apartment. 

“Bro! What happened?! How did this happen?” Bokuto ignored Akaashi's presence, throwing himself on the ground next to Kuroo once he stepped foot into the living room. Kuroo sighed, leaning back slightly to sit in a more comfortable position. “I was trying out a new move, but then I landed wrongly. It’s probably a sprain though-” 

“It’s not a sprain.” Akaashi interrupted the both of them softly, squatting back down and removing the ice pack to reveal the ankle - which was clearly misshapen now. “It’s most likely a fracture, from how it looks. Bokuto-san, Kuroo-san said you had a car? We should get him to the hospital so they can do a detailed x-ray.” 

With Bokuto’s help, they managed to move Kuroo from his place on the floor to the hospital, and before they knew it, the three of them were squeezed in a tiny room with the doctor, after all the numerous scans they had to run on Kuroo’s ankle. “So, Kuroo, right? From the x-ray, it’s obvious that you have fractured your ankle. It wasn’t a very severe fracture, so you will not be needing a surgery. However, you will need an ankle boot for the next few weeks, to keep the weight off your injured ankle. Afterwards, we would advise sticking to an ankle brace to help to stabilize your ankle while it heals. For such injuries, it would take about 7 weeks to fully heal, and I will see you after 4 weeks to access your recovery. Is that good?” 

Kuroo felt a huge lump at the back of the throat. The three of them were looking at him expectantly, waiting for his reply, but he merely made a soft hum and lowered his head, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “Alright, thank you.” Akaashi spoke up from beside Kuroo, then they exited the room. He felt himself being gently lowered down into one of the seats in the waiting room, and tears started to prickle his eyes as the reality of the situation sunk in. 

“I’m so dumb.” He exhaled, covering his face with his palms. “If only I didn’t attempt that move-” 

“It’s not your fault.” Akaashi said, placing a hand on Kuroo’s back to help ground him. “Yeah, of course it isn’t. You didn’t do this intentionally, so you shouldn’t blame yourself for it. If you need my help during the recovery, I’m just a phone call away.” Bokuto reassured Kuroo, flashing a toothy smile so infectious that Kuroo let a smile slip out as well. The dancer let out a small sigh, lifting his head slightly to glance at Keiji. 

“I’m sorry for dragging you here with me, I was supposed to earn enough money to pay you back for the broken window, dammit! Now I can’t even stand up and walk properly, and I can’t go back to work until my ankle is healed-” 

“I told you to drop the whole window thing, I’m here as a friend, not as some, I don’t know, someone that you’re indebted to because you  _ broke my fucking window. _ I’ll do something about my window with my own money, but you should focus on getting better and recuperating these 7 weeks. If I see you straining yourself I  _ will  _ tie you to the couch.” Bokuto let out a roaring laugh at Akaashi’s threat, patting Kuroo on the back. 

“There, don’t worry too much about this. We’ll both help.” With that, it sent Kuroo over the edge and the tears that he was so valiantly trying to hold back came rushing down like Niagara falls. Though he was still sitting in the hospital waiting for an ankle brace and was rendered useless for at least the next 4 weeks, the first time in a long while, he felt like he was the luckiest man alive. 

It took Kuroo a while to get used to walking about with the ankle brace, but Keiji still put him on bed/couch arrest, not wanting him to put too much stress on his ankle for now. He grew used to doing the housework around the tiny apartment, and helping Kuroo clean up the mess that he somehow always managed to make became a weekly thing. Keiji also tried his best to cook, though it usually ended up with him burning something and ordering in. 

By the end of the second week, he gave up asking Kuroo to sit back down and let Kuroo take over the cooking - even he was getting tired of oily and greasy fast food that they had been consuming. Bokuto came over more often than he usually did, sometimes just to keep Kuroo company and other times they worked through a couple choreographies - with only Bokuto dancing, of course. Before he knew it, Keiji had completely settled down into a life with Kuroo in it, and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to receiving his paycheck that month, since he had been working on a huge project for an important client. 

If he had enough money to replace his window, he would have to drop everything he had right now and go back to his own apartment, and Kuroo would just be another neighbour to him, one out of the many others in the apartment block. For some reason, the thought of going back to how they used to be made Keiji feel like he had a hundred knives stuck at the back of his throat. Sure, they would probably say hi to each other if they saw each other along the corridor. But that  _ closeness  _ that they shared, the  _ warmth _ that pools at the bottom of his stomach when he lays his eyes on the dancer… 

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Keiji leant back from the computer and closed the program that he was currently on. His gaze travelled to the phone that he had abandoned by the table, feeling his heart drop when it pinged with a new message. 

To: Akaashi Keiji

From: Client

Hi Akaashi! We absolutely loved the masterpiece that you have created. You never fail to surprise us with the amazing tunes. We will transfer the money to your bank account by the end of this week. Thank you and we hope to work together with you soon. 

Keiji sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly from his nose as he stood up and opened the door of the studio. “Ah, you’re done, Akaashi? That’s early - do you want to go out for dinner, then? I’m on my ankle brace now, it should be fine for me to start getting some fresh air.” Kuroo smiled at Keiji, and his stomach did funny flips when their eyes met. “I, uh… I’m going to get paid this week.” He blurted out, then immediately regretted it. Kuroo’s eyes immediately lost the shine that they had before, and while the smile was still there, it looked more fake than anything else Keiji had ever seen. 

“Isn’t that great! You don’t have to squeeze with me in this tiny apartment anymore… We should totally go out and celebrate, my treat?” Keiji blinked, tightening his grip around his phone.  _ The whole situation is weird, anyway. We were just strangers a few months ago, and just because he broke my window now I’m staying in his house. I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome, continuing this, whatever it is...  _ Dropping his gaze, Keiji forced a small smile on his face, nodding in response to Kuroo’s offer. 

“That sounds great,” He forced out, turning to grab his coat. “But we are splitting the bill.” 

“Ehhhh? But it’s a celebration for you!” Kuroo whined, following behind. 

“As if you have enough money to even pay for my portion.” Keiji shot back, though there was no malice detected in his tone. Kuroo let out a hurt sound, launching into a rant about how he had savings and that he had gone back to work a week ago… 

_ Whatever this is, we should end it before it even starts.  _

-

The day where he finally got his window fixed was also the day where he was officially moving back into his apartment. Kuroo was off his ankle brace, and he offered to help Keiji move his equipment back, even though there really wasn’t much to move. “All done~!” Kuroo stood up, placing the last box down. He turned to look at Keiji, who was leaning against the doorframe and (not so subtly) checking Kuroo out. “Thank you for your help.” Keiji said softly, wondering how he was going to get used to sleeping alone again. 

Kuroo laughed, and it sounded like music to keiji’s ears. If only he could find an excuse to stay longer, if only he had enough courage to confess, but-

“Hey, Akaashi. I wanted to do something really stupid, like breaking your window again, but I know how expensive it was to replace, so I’m not going to do that. But, those few months with you in my house - I decided that I really like that. When I fell and you took it upon yourself to care for me and my apartment… I don’t know when it started, but I think that I’m starting to fall for you.” Keiji’s mouth opened slightly in shock at the sudden confession, and his face turned bright red when he realised that those feelings he harboured weren’t unrequited afterall. 

“I know it seems crazy and someone like you wouldn’t settle for someone like me but I swear I’m cooler than some stupid clumsy guy who broke your window  _ and  _ fractured his ankle. So if you would allow me to start again,” Kuroo stepped outside of Keiji’s apartment, lowering his head in a bow. 

“Hi, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, and I live right next door. I like you, Akaash Keijii, will you go out with me?” Keiji covered his face with his hand, not wanting Kuroo to see him like this - his entire body was trembling slightly with the embarrassment and ecstasy. So many emotions were flowing through his body, so he stripped himself of his usual stoic personality and flung himself at the dancer, wrapping his arms around his toned body. 

“Yes, yes, a million times, yes!”

“A yes would have sufficed.” Kuroo chuckled, but held him back with the same intensity. 

“I must have saved a country or something in my past life.” He continued, pulling away to glance at Keiji, whose face was still bright tomato red.

“W-what, why-”

“Because I’m so lucky to have met you - we didn’t exactly start off on the right foot, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“Yeah, well maybe I would have preferred you knocking on my door, and not throwing a basketball at my window.” 

“Akaaashiiii, it was an accident-”

“I literally spent all the money I just received on replacing it-”

“I know, I know, I’m swowwyyy…”

Akaashi smiled, leaning up to kiss Kuroo, mainly to stop him from whining any further.

_ Ah, maybe this is okay after all. Whatever this is… we’ll work it out together.  _

__


End file.
